


Come, and Come Again

by Ribbons_Undone



Series: Dream World [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:01:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24910471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribbons_Undone/pseuds/Ribbons_Undone
Summary: In which Dean takes control of his dreams and Cas takes control in another way.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Dream World [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784737
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Come, and Come Again

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Disclaimer: Any comments/views on homosexuality/gender roles are not my own and are written to keep character (specifically Dean’s).

* * *

_I dream of you, to wake: would that I might  
Dream of you and not wake but slumber on;  
Nor find with dreams the dear companion gone,  
As, Summer ended, Summer birds take flight.  
In happy dreams I hold you full in night.  
I blush again who waking look so wan;  
Brighter than sunniest day that ever shone,  
In happy dreams your smile makes day of night.  
  
_

\-- Excerpt from _I dream of you, to wake_ by Christina Rossetti

* * *

_Come, and Come Again_

After the last few rude awakenings, Dean finally figured out the cure for spending as long as he desired lost to the rapture of his dreams. It was quite simple, actually. All it took was a short trip to the pharmacy.

Dean laid back on the pillow with a sigh, waiting for the effects of the pills to take.

* * *

He awoke to a bright and sunny day by the lake. Of course it was sunny. It was always sunny here. The air was clear as ever, the smell on the wind fresh. The scent of pine needles was mixed in with the familiar aroma of water lilies, the combination of the two calming Dean down to his toes. In many ways this place was beginning to feel like a home to him—a place to rest his feet after a long day at the office, with that office being whatever podunk town Sam and him were hunting in that week. Dean turned his head up the hill to the little cluster of trees a hundred yards or so from shore. A small log cabin was nestled between the grove of ash and oak and pine, looking as though it had been there all along even though this was the first Dean had seen of it. He could remember splitting the logs and fitting them together with Cas’s help—laughing and sweating in the hot sun and taking short dips in the lake when the heat got too unbearable—which was strange because he knew it had never happened. Still, the memory of it was nice.

“Castiel,” Dean called, willing the angel to him.

Cas appeared at his shoulder in the seconds between one breath and another. He caught Dean’s eyes and then followed his gaze up the hill to the cabin.

“You’ve redecorated,” Castiel said.

Dean laughed. He couldn’t tell if Cas was joking or just making an observation. “Yeah, well, I figured it was time to switch things up.” He reached for Cas’s hand. “Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour. I’m itching to see it for myself.”

Cas’s hand slipped into his and Dean led him up the hill. He held his breath as he swung open the front door, unsure of what he would find.

It was your typical country hunting cabin, minus the guns and awkward wall trophies. Dean glanced around. “Huh,” he said, eyes catching the window above the sink. “I’ve got _curtains_.”

“I don’t understand. You wanted to show me your drapery?” Cas asked, peering around the room.

It surprised Dean how _domestic_ the place was—it seemed his subconscious leaned more on the side of the white-picket fence than he originally believed it did. The cabin had an open floor plan—kitchen to one side, living room in the middle. There was a line of coat hooks by the front door and an old-fashioned wood stove opposite from the kitchen. Two doors were set into the wall next to it. Through one, Dean could see a small bathroom. The other, he guessed, must lead to the bedroom.

“Please be a king, please be a king,” Dean muttered under his breath, making a bee-line for the mystery door and pushing it open. In the middle of the room was the largest bed Dean had ever seen. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he said with a wide grin.

Cas stepped up behind him and placed his chin on Dean’s shoulder.

“I take it you have plans on how to christen that monstrosity,” Cas said.

Dean barked out in laughter.

“You’re really getting the humor today, Cas. You must be in a good mood or something,” Dean replied, turning his head slightly so that he could look at the angel sidelong. Castiel nodded atop his shoulder.

“There is much to be joyous about,” Cas confessed with a bit of a blush, “I am here, after all.”

Dean turned fully to slip his arms around Cas’s slim torso, pulling the angel to him. He nuzzled Cas’s neck with his nose.

“That’s not even the best part,” he murmured against Cas’s skin, “We’ve got all night together. No interruptions.”

“I don’t catch your meaning,” Cas said, leaning in to his touch. Dean could hear his breathing quicken.

“Thank your dad for insomnia,” Dean replied, “Whatever we do tonight, I ain’t waking up.”

He kissed Cas full and slow, tongue darting in past Cas’s lips to taste him. He heard Cas hum low in his chest as his fingers balled up in Dean’s t-shirt.

His eyes, when Dean pulled back, were smoky with lust. Cas rolled his tongue around in his mouth, brows pinching together at the strange taste there.

“You took something to help you sleep,” Cas realized.

“Sleeping pill. Like I said, not even the dead can wake me tonight,” Dean said with a grin.

“And if they try?” Cas asked. He sounded apprehensive.

“Salted the room, devil’s trap under the bed,” Dean rattled off. “Come on, Cas, you know me better than that.” He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned shamelessly at the angel, who blushed red and looked away.

“I am concerned that you are becoming addicted to these dreams,” Cas said, “And would choose them over the real world.”

“Damn straight I would,” Dean said without hesitation, “What’s the real world got in it for me anyhow, huh?”

“A great many things,” Cas replied seriously, looking back at him, “Myself included.”

Dean flinched a little at that, the proverbial elephant stepping quite emphatically into the small room.

“Yeah, and a great many things who all want to kill me and suck the marrow from my bones,” Dean argued. “It’s safe here, Cas. I just want to feel that for a while. With you, if you still want to be here.” Dean looked at Cas from under thick lashes. “You do still want to be here, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course I do,” Cas replied.

“Then quit the psychotherapy crap,” Dean said, “and _be_ here.”

Dean leaned in for another kiss, and Cas caught his face between his hands as he did. Their lips moved together as one, small moans passing between soft tissue and the slightest of gaps which allowed the air entry. Dean pushed Cas to the bed, and when his knees hit the edge of it Dean grabbed him by the lapels of his long coat and shoved him back onto the mattress.

Cas landed with his elbows propping him up into a half-seated position. He breathed heavily as he gazed up at Dean, his eyes a stormy blue. Then he reached up and grabbed Dean by his jacket and pulled him down to meet his lips.

Dean’s mouth crashed into Cas and nearly knocked their teeth together. His hands hit the mattress on either sides of him, his chest pressed to the angel as his lips moved fervently against the pale pink of Cas’s mouth. He shrugged off his jacket, tossing it to the floor.

When Cas’s hands slipped under his shirt, he leaned back just enough to help pull it over his head and then hurried to shove Cas’s coat off his shoulders.

Cas’s hands flew to the buttons on his shirt, practically tearing them open in his impatience to get it off. As soon as the shirt was open he shrugged it off and looped an arm around Dean’s waist to pull him in close, seeking his mouth as their bare chests pressed together. His eagerness was making Dean hard. His cock pressed painfully against the front of his jeans, begging for freedom, for release.

Then Cas’s hands were at his belt. He loosened it, popped the buttons on Dean’s denims and grabbed him by the ass underneath.

“What’d you take angel Viagra or something?” Dean asked, laughing lightly. He didn’t pull away, just ground their hips together. Cas grunted at the friction of their two cocks dragging against one another through the double-layer of fabric.

“I don’t know what that is,” Cas replied. His hands still cupped Dean’s ass, gripping him tightly under his jeans. “I am simply…excited.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Dean said. “I guess I had you pegged for the wine and dine type, that’s all.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Cas replied.

His voice was lower than usual, huskier. The sound of it alone had Dean aching.

“Never mind,” he said, deciding it didn’t matter. He could explain foreplay to Castiel at a later date, when he wasn’t about to come in his pants. He grabbed Cas by the back of the neck and kissed him rough.

He ground his front against Cas again, dragging a moan from him this time, and tugged at his suit pants. Cas shoved them to his knees and then grabbed Dean around the hips, rolling him onto the bed. He jerked Dean’s pants down around his thighs and pressed into him.

“Dean,” Cas said, the sound of it almost a growl. “I need you.”

As though Dean had to ask what that meant, Cas ground into him, a telltale hardness pressing against the inside of his thigh.

“Woah, hey,” Dean said, scrambling up a bit, “Not sure I’m ready for that.”

“I don’t understand,” Cas said. He was straddling Dean and looking down at him in confusion. “I thought this is the way men please one another.”

“They do,” Dean assured him, “I’m just not into…” He trailed off, unable to say it.

Cas looked at him, waiting for him to continue. Dean took a breath.

“I guess I always saw myself as a top dog kinda guy is all,” Dean explained, shooting Cas a nervous smile. “You know—pitcher, not catcher.”

“I don’t catch your meaning.”

“I-I’m not the kind of guy who likes taking it up the ass, okay?” he said, “I mean, I always thought—you’re the first guy I’ve ever done it with.”

“Oh. I see,” Cas said. He grinned a little. “Should I be flattered?”

“Be whatever. Doesn’t change anything,” Dean said obstinately.

Cas paused to reconsider his approach, the urgency of his desire fading at the anxious look in Dean’s eyes. He nosed Dean’s neck, pressing a kiss into the hollow at its base, and uttered low in his ear.

“It felt good, Dean,” Cas said, lips brushing the soft appendage. “Having you inside me. I wish for you to feel it too.”

“Yeah?” Dean’s breath caught in his throat, and he felt Cas nod against him. He was a pleasure slut, and Cas knew it.

Truth was, he was afraid to take that final step over the edge and find out. There was a big difference between enjoying fucking guys and liking it when they fucked _him_ , and to be completely honest, Dean was afraid he _was_ going to like it, and then he was going to have a hard time selling the whole tough-guy bid. But this was _Cas_ they were talking about. If he was going to go full-gay with anyone, he wanted it to be him. That, and the thought of having Cas inside of him was enticing in a way he hadn’t expected.

Cas ran his hand up his thigh and over his quad to the inside of his groin. Dean twitched as his knuckle brushed Dean’s cock.

“Will you let me please you, Dean?” Cas asked him, his breath hot against Dean’s ear.

A tongue trailed up the side of Dean’s neck, following the thread of muscle that strained as Dean clenched his teeth in pleasure. Cas’s fingers floated up his chest, found his nipples and thumbed them until they were hard. His mouth closed over Dean’s ear, tongue flicking out to slowly trace the inside of its rim. The sensation was more than he’d ever felt before—electric and overwhelming and driving Dean a little crazy with the onrush of arousal that it elicited.

“Damnit, yes! Okay, Cas? You win. Anything. Anything for you, babe,” Dean blurted out in a heady rush.

His pants were still rumpled around his knees, and Cas took the opportunity to pull them all the way off. He did the same with his own and then returned to Dean in a flash to kiss him deeply, slipping his tongue past Dean’s lips so that he could drink in the heady taste of his arousal. Dean groaned and bucked his hips, cock grinding against Cas as he dragged his hands through Cas’s hair.

Cas caught them and pressed them back to the mattress.

The dark gleam in his eyes would be alarming if Dean didn’t trust Cas completely. He breathed heavily, chest rising and falling under the weight of the angel’s looming presence. For once, Dean got a glimpse of how powerful Castiel really was—it was easy to get lost in the illusion of Jimmy-the-accountant’s lean, slender frame, especially when Cas wore it so humbly. He was so mild-mannered most of the time and so full of grace and compassion that Dean forgot just how badass he could be. Being on the receiving end of his focused stare had Dean surrendering completely under him, wanting _more_.

And now that Cas had convinced him this was what he wanted, Dean trembled with need.

“Please, Cas,” he rasped. His Adam’s apple bobbed against the thickness in his throat and he sent out a silent prayer of want that he knew Cas could hear. His forearms tensed in Cas’s grip, his body arching up against Cas begging to be touched— _God_ —anywhere and everywhere.

Cas released him for a moment and reached for the drawer on the bedside table. Sure enough, all the essentials were there. He grabbed a small bottle and returned to Dean, who hadn’t moved a muscle besides turning his head to watch.

Cas kissed him then, and the feeling was like finding an oasis in the middle of the desert. Dean moaned, wanton and _wanting_ into Cas’s mouth, hands threading through his hair and down his back and around his hips.

He heard the snap of the bottle and then cool liquid at his opening. Dean sucked in his breath at the shocking sensation, knowing what was coming next. The feeling of apprehension from before returned full force and he shied away from Cas’s finger. Then Cas took hold of his dick and stroked him long and slow, and Dean forgot about what he was doing with his ass.

The first finger slipped in without him even aware that it had. Cas was still kissing him, moving from his mouth to his ear to his neck to his _nipples—God_ —and then it dawned on him that the strange pressure working him from inside was— _oh yeah—_ but just as the realization hit Cas slipped another finger in and hooked them just right.

“Jesus—oh fucking Chr—” The string of profanity was bit off by a rough kiss and an eager tongue. Dean moaned and kissed Cas back—a rush of teeth and tongues and mouths that just couldn’t get close enough.

Dean felt Cas shift over him, and then his fingers were replaced by something _else_.

Dean let out a loud bellow with that first in-thrust, clinging to Cas’s back and digging his fingers under his shoulder blades—where his wings would be. Cas panted heavy in his ear, and Dean could feel him tremble as he stilled, fighting his body’s instinct to move as he waited for Dean to become used to his fullness.

“I’m good,” Dean gasped, pressing his open mouth to Cas’s neck, “I’m a big girl, Cas, just ride me, babe.”

Cas grunted and moved, found his lips again and rocked him forward and back against the generous expanse of the bed. His hand stroked Dean faster, jacking him off to the rhythm of his hips.

It didn’t take long. A final punching thrust that hit his prostate just right and then Dean was crying out and spilling all over Cas’s hand, throwing his head back and just trying to remember how to breathe as his whole body trembled from the release and the wash of ecstasy flooding through him.

Cas was still moving in him. The angel was panting fast and dripping sweat, a strained look on his face as he thrust into Dean again and again. Dean could tell he was getting close by the way his breath hitched a little at the end of each inhale, and grabbed Cas by the back of the thighs and bucked under him to _really_ get him in there—and then Cas was crying out as well, low and guttural and shaking.

He collapsed on top of Dean, fingers twitching as they raked through Dean’s short blond hair. Cas made a pleased sound, and damn if it wasn’t that of a well-fucked man.

“Liked that, did you?” Dean mused, lips curling up into a flirtatious smile.

“Yes,” Cas responded, voice low and huskier than normal. “Did you also…?”

“Hey, did you hear me complaining?” Dean asked.

“Yes, but I believe it was a good complaining,” Cas replied. He grinned up at Dean, chin resting on Dean’s chest, his eyes bright and blue and clear. His smile was sunny as the summer day leaning in through the small window behind them.

“Why Cas, you dog,” Dean said, shifting under him. He was really getting the hang of this bed-talk thing. “Hey, pull out, would you? Much as I like you glued to my ass, it’s getting a little uncomfortable.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Cas rolled off of him and Dean reached over the side of the bed to grab a couple of tissues. He wiped himself down, then helped Cas do the same, and finally tossed the dirty tissues over the side of the bed. He looped an arm around Cas and pulled him close, nuzzling his neck.

“That was _hot_ ,” Dean said, pressing his lips in the hollow of Cas’s neck. He heard the angel hum his agreement.

“It was certainly…invigorating.”

Dean snorted into his skin.

“Yeah, baby, talk dirty to me like that,” he teased. He could feel the warm flush work its way up Cas’s neck.

“Would you care to…” Cas trailed off, his voice taking a shy edge. “A-again?”

Dean grinned into his skin.

“Normally I would need a few minutes, but seeing as this is a dream…”

Yep, he was hard again. He stroked Cas slowly, watching as his cock twitched and heard the hitch in his breath.

“Roll over,” Dean commanded. Cas did so, and Dean pressed him into the mattress.

When Dean kissed him just under the shoulder blade, where his wings would be, Cas shivered and squirmed a little under him.

“Dean,” he uttered, the sound of it pleading.

Dean cast about the bed for what he knew was there, and then found what he was looking for. He dragged the end of Cas’s tie out from under the rumpled bedspread and twisted it between his hands.

“Trust me, Cas?” he asked, swooping low to whisper rough in Cas’s ear. The angel glanced back at him, saw the tie, and nodded. “Raise your hands.”

Cas did, and Dean looped the tie through the rungs in the headboard and around his thin wrists, knotting the fabric loose enough not to cut into them but tight enough so that he would feel it. With the angel anchored under him, he could do whatever he wanted…

But first—

“Hey, if you want me to stop or—or whatever, just say…say ‘supernatural,’ okay?”

“Why would I say that?” Cas asked him. He seemed perplexed.

“It’s called a safe word. You use it if you…uh, if you feel unsafe at all and you want me to untie you,” Dean explained. God damn but it was awkward teaching Bondage 101 to a freaking _angel of the Lord._

“Dean, if I wanted I could snap these bonds in half,” Cas said, “Or disappear in the blink of an eye.”

“Oh,” Dean said, and it sounded like _duh_ , “Right.”

“I could think it and _you_ would be the one restrained,” Cas said in a low, gravelly voice.

Dean breathed in a ragged inhale as his brain fired off about a dozen different fantasies that Cas could do to him were that the case.

“My safe word is ‘lemon drops,’” he said huskily.

“I will remember that,” Cas replied with a sultry grin.

Dean lowered himself on top of Cas, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and then biting down with enough pressure to make Cas grunt. He trailed his fingers down Cas’s sides and gripped him by the hips.

Cas spread his legs a little, squirming under him and flexing against his bonds, and okay, _that was hot_. Dean pressed his lips into the lithe muscles of a forearm and licked Cas while he wormed a finger up his ass.

Cas groaned and panted, arching a little at his touch and then pressed back into his hand, forcing the finger deeper. Damn, but he really did enjoy Dean manhandling him like this. Dean spanked him—sharp and fleeting—tearing a surprised yelp from the angel. He slipped another finger in and covered the red welt on Cas’s backside with his palm to dull the stinging while he hooked his knuckles up into him.

That did it. Cas jerked forward with a cry and gripped the headboard.

“Dean,” he uttered, his voice strained and pleading. “Please.”

“What, Cas?” Dean goaded, looming close to his ear and breathing hotly into it, knowing he was driving Cas crazy. He twisted his fingers a little, drawing another sharp gasp from him. “Say it, baby, tell me what you want.”

“I—I w-want…”

Another twist, and Dean gripped him by the hair, pulling up and exposing that long, white neck. He kissed Cas in the hollow of it, nipping at his skin, and the guttural sound that ripped from Cas’s lips was so _hot_ , so alluring, Dean was riding the edge of an orgasm without putting his dick in _anywhere_.

“I want you—i-in—” Cas gasped, barely able to string the words together, “m-me. Dean, please!”

He was _really_ begging for it—face red and shameless, and it was good. It was _so good_. Dean slipped his fingers out and repositioned himself before thrusting into him.

Cas cried out and shook under him, and Dean moved his hips rhythmically, rolling in and jerking forward at the end of each thrust. It was a move he typically saved for the ladies, but what it was doing to Cas was clearly working.

“Dean, m-more—please, more!” Cas begged, and Dean gave it to him.

“Anything, Cas, you’ve got me,” Dean murmured above his ear, panting against it. “You’ve got all of me.”

He hitched up Cas’s hips and grabbed him about the waist, hand sliding underneath and finding his hardness. Dean jacked him hot and fast, fingers slipping against his wet head and down around his shaft.

He felt it when Cas came, and the sensation of his tremors closing around Dean’s dick sent him off the edge as well. He gasped and jerked forward, riding Cas until the last wave of pleasure rolled languidly over him, and then he collapsed alongside him on the bed, breathing heavily.

Dean let his head fall to the side. He gave Cas a lopsided, dirty grin.

“Babe, you are a _slut_ ,” he said, loosening the bonds around Cas’s wrists.

Cas just breathed and grinned at him with his eyes.

They laid on the bed in the late afternoon sun for a long time before either of them moved. Then Cas brushed Dean’s cheek with the backs of his fingers and leaned in for a slow, lazy kiss.

When he pulled away, there was something uncanny about the way Cas was looking at him.

Dean blinked, and then— _oh God_ —it was just like Cas had said. Dean’s hands were raised above his head, crossed and tied to the headboard with a thought and a flurry of wings. Cas was over him, naked chest gleaming with sweat.

“Again?” Castiel asked.

“What are you, the freaking energizer bunny?” Dean laughed breathlessly. His heart had barely stopped racing from their last go but he was already hard. _Jesus_. What had he started? “Hell yes,” he said, in answer to Cas’s question. “I mean, I’d be worried about feeling this tomorrow, but…it’s a dream so I guess there’s no downside.”

“That is one benefit of this place,” Cas agreed, trailing his fingers down Dean’s chest, “Among others.” Dean shivered, cock twitching in anticipation of what was to come.

Cas was just leaning down over him when the world faded to black.

* * *

“Dean. _Dean!_ ”

He awoke to Sam yelling his name and slapping at his face.

“I never said lemon drops,” Dean mumbled, sitting up.

“What?” Sam looked at him, bewildered. Dean just blinked, trying to shake the cotton out of his head and figure out where he was.

“Sam?” he said once the room came into focus. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing. I’ve been trying to wake you up for twenty minutes!”

“Is it morning already?” Time sure did fly in dream world. Dean grumbled at the irony. “Damn, I was having a really good time.” He rubbed his eyes with one hand, pinching the bridge of his nose and not realizing what he just said. He was more worried about how much Cas was going to kill him for leaving in the middle of things _again_. “Get off me, Sammy.”

“Sorry.” Sam climbed off Dean’s bed and sat back on his own. To his brother’s credit, Sam waited a beat before ridiculing him.

“Sleeping pills, Dean? Really?” Sam huffed and shook his head in disbelief. “This whole sleep thing is becoming a problem, man. Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing is _going on_ ,” Dean snapped at him, fed up with the conversation already. He had a dull headache—he suspected from either the pills or Sam slapping him awake—and he really resented being conscious right about now.

“Fine. Whatever.” Sam let out a frustrated sigh and pressed his lips together in that signature bitch-face of his. “Anyway, Bobby called. He needs our help with something. Said it was urgent.”

Regardless of how pissed he was at Sam, when Bobby Singer called to say something was urgent, the world screeched to a halt.

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

Dean reached over to the nightstand where the keys to the Impala were resting. Sam moved faster, however, and snatched them up first.

“You’re still half-drugged from the pills,” his brother pointed out, “I’ll drive.”

“Whatever,” Dean replied. He sighed. Maybe he could sleep off the rest of his drug-induced hangover in the car. Maybe Cas was still kneeling naked on the bed in his dreams waiting for him.

Or maybe that wasn’t the best idea, considering Sam would be sitting right next to him in the car and Dean couldn’t exactly control the incriminating sounds he made in his sleep. He was lucky enough as it was that they hadn’t been doing anything serious when Sam woke him up.

Dean sighed. It was going to take all his patience to get through the next couple days while they dealt with whatever it was Bobby needed their help for. After that, Dean promised himself a nice, long sleep.

The real world, however, had other plans in store for him.

* * *

_Thus only in a dream we are at one,  
Thus only in a dream we give and take  
The faith that maketh rich who take or give;  
If thus to sleep is sweeter than to wake,  
To die were surely sweeter than to live,  
Though there be nothing new beneath the sun._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: 
> 
> I was being a bit of a cock-tease in the last few installments so I hope this made up for it. ;)
> 
> I also felt when I started that this installment was a lot like the last two so I tried to switch things up. 
> 
> This may also have been inspired by the “Cas, get out of my ass,” line in season 6.
> 
> The other safe words I considered were ‘Lucifer’s eyebrows’, ‘Apocalypse now’ and ‘Shuck it Chuck’. XD I was partial to ‘Lucifer’s eyebrows’ but figured ‘Supernatural’ was easier for Cas to remember and Dean to think up on the spot, and it has a certain satire. (That being said, make a good bid for your favorite or offer up a better one and I will change it.)
> 
> The next installment will be almost all plot (Introducing: Conflict!) and I think I’m maybe 2 or 3 parts from the end here. I have more poems I want to use than ideas, but I don’t want to drag this out. Until next time! Ta~


End file.
